I do not own Sam or Dean or anything associated with them… unfortunately. I own plot and waitress though!

"Sam, do you want some ices in your drink," Dean asked as they ordered their food.

"Dean, I would like some ice. Not ices."

"Alright," the waitress said as she walked away.

Sam and Dean stopped in a little diner in the middle of nowhere to grab some grub. But of course Dean couldn't have one restaurant; he had to have the restaurant. God forbid!

"I hope she puts extra ices in mine," Dean said.

"Dean, ices is not a word. Well, it is… but," Sam started.

"There you just said it was a word."

"But not the way you're making it work. I mean… Dean! Okay, ices means something other then more then one ice. The plural of frozen water, ice, is ice."

"Lost me geek boy."


"Sammy, don't worry."

"Don't call me Sammy!"

Just then the waitress returned with their water.

"Here's your drinks boys," she said as she placed the cups in front of them.

"Miss," Sam said, he was not going to let this go, "What's the plural of ice? Like ice that you put in a drink."

"Ice," she responded promptly.

"Don't you mean ices," Dean asked.

"No. Sorry pretty boy. Ice."

She walked away as Dean put on his aggravated face. Or maybe it was his I-didn't-get-what-I-want face. Either way, Sam found it amusing.

"Geek boy, huh," Sam asked with a triumph obvious in his smile.

"Miss," Dean muttered in an imitating voice, "What's the plural…"

Sam laughed as Dean finished off his imitation. Being right tasted sweet.